


Watermelon Sugar

by SenshineKkaebsong



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Monsters, Come Eating, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Shameless Smut, Song: Watermelon Sugar (Harry Styles), Steve is a cockslut, some fluff and romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:21:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26498548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SenshineKkaebsong/pseuds/SenshineKkaebsong
Summary: Summer is ending but Steve and Billy are tempted to make the most of it under the weak Indiana sun. It just happens to involve watermelon and a lot of come.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Comments: 1
Kudos: 73





	Watermelon Sugar

**Author's Note:**

> Man, I don't even know where this fic came from. God bless cockslut, come-hungry Steve and his weird taste fetish.

Billy spits the black teardrops from between his lips like a man on a mission to punish the earth with them. He chews like he does everything else - obnoxious and flashy and too intense - red flesh pulverised between his pearly white teeth. Steve's horrified, disgusted even. But as is human nature, like that time in high school during the great blue waffle discovery and despite his classmates’ warnings, he _has_ to see. He can't _not_ look. Steve can't take his eyes off the horror show in front of his face. Red dribbles down the corners of Billy's mouth in translucent rivulets, dripping down his hands and sinking into the picnic mat beneath them. It reminds Steve of that time he'd walked in on Billy eating out Audrey Sampson during a party, thick fingers digging into her meaty thighs, hair pulled into a messy bun, eyes absolutely wild. She came all over his fucking face, gushing like a goddamn geyser as soon as she'd seen Steve. He suspected she had a voyeur kink, not that it’s Steve's cup of tea but he can see the appeal. Billy goes all the way down to the slightly bitter rind, crunching and slurping, before throwing the green skin of the watermelon over his shoulder and grabbing another piece out of the Tupperware container. It lands with a dull thud in the grass somewhere behind them, forage for ants and birds.

Steve finally tears his eyes off the neanderthal, sweeps his gaze across the field around them. The grass is tall in some places, already starting to brown from the oncoming winter. The wind has a slight bite to it but it's nothing a born and bred Indiana boy like himself can't handle. And Billy always runs _hot._ His mouth is sticky with dried juice. So is his chin and fingers. There's a water bottle at his side left out specifically for the purpose of washing his hands and mouth but at the moment, he can't be bothered. Steve's never been able to eat watermelon like the refined adult he's supposed to be. It's messy and gets everywhere. There's juice that has snaked its way down his neck and buried itself between the coarse hairs on his chest. It pulls a little when he leans back to rest on his elbows. He briefly looks down at his chest, remembers when he was dating Stacy Greene for all of three weeks and how she complained endlessly about his _'ugly chest hair'_. He'd fucking shaved it for her even though he loved the hair. Steve shaves his armpits and his pubes, including his asshole. Sometimes he does his eyebrows or if he's feeling particularly saucy, he'll shave his legs. His chest hair is a fucking no-no, though, he’s _never_ doing that for _anyone_ again.

His tongue flicks out over his lips to wipe away some of the stickiness clinging to his mouth and before he can process it, a pleasantly confused hum bubbles up from his throat when a burst of sweetness explodes over the muscle.

“Got somethin’ you wanna share with the class, Harrington?” Billy drawls. Steve’s still reeling by this newest discovery, pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, sucking off the sugary goodness as his eyes find Billy’s bright blues, no longer concealed by the aviators now perched in his hair. Billy’s got a smile on his face, the one that spells mischief and amusement, always at the expense of Steve, mouth quirked on one side, eyes roving over Steve like he’s dissecting a particularly interesting specimen.

Steve lifts a brow, lip sliding from between his teeth, a little sore, a little puffy and a lot wet. Billy licks his own mouth in response. “I was just thinking, man. Watermelon is fucking sweet, right? Well, it depends on the melon itself, but naturally, it’s sweet. But then, but then the juice! Like when all the water evaporates or whatever, it leaves behind those tiny little fuckers… glucose molecules or whatever, and like it somehow tastes even sweeter than the watermelon flesh.” Steve knows he has a tendency to ramble, that sometimes when he has a thought, his mouth moves faster than his brain so he blurts all sorts of nonsense and can be extremely incoherent, tripping over his words.

Billy’s probably used to it by now but it still feels weird when he goes off into little spiels of excitement or frustration when there’s just too much going on upstairs. The blond regards him with his usual intensity, piercing blue eyes squinting and mouth curving until he’s sporting a full-blown smirk, teeth glinting and dangerous, tongue lolling out like a fucking dog.

“You like the juice, Stevie?” Billy taunts.

Steve scoffs even as his face heats at the words. Billy has a tendency to turn everything into an innuendo like it’s a fucking Olympic sport. He must be sporting a faint blush now, can feel it on his skin, because Billy sits up and scoots over, their bare arms pressing together, the younger a solid line of muscles and heat at his side all the way down to his toes. He can feel his thigh muscles flex against his own, see the sticky, glistening tracks of juice dried into his golden skin and has the sudden burning _need_ to lean down and trace it over with his tongue and lips. Billy smells like his cologne and sweat and that cloying sweetness of watermelon sugar and when Steve finally tears his gaze away from Billy’s chest all the way up to his face, he instantly feels like prey beneath the heated, predatory look in those steely sapphire orbs.

“I asked you a question, pretty boy.” Billy murmurs, a rumble like the steady purr of his flashy camaro, his breath hot and sweet as it fans across Steve’s cheek, with just the slightest sour earthiness from the pot they smoked in the car on the drive over.

“I… _yeah_.” He breathes out, like a secret. They’re not even doing anything but Steve can already feel himself chubbing in his shorts, filling out against his left thigh. For one insane moment, he imagines lying on his back, Billy bent over him, pulling his legs apart until the muscles burn, sucking him down to the hilt until he comes all over the guy’s face and in his mouth. And that’s not even the best part. The part that usually has him spilling into his fist with a strangled groan trapped behind his teeth and rattling around in his chest in the dead of the night is when Billy feeds his own spunk back to him, wiping it around every inch of his mouth with that filthy tongue of his until it’s all Steve can taste for days.

“Yeah? You want it?” Steve gasps when the rough pads of thick fingers find the soft skin on the inside of his thigh, slowly dragging it up, up, _up_ until it rests just where the outline of his cock is beginning to show. He wants to squirm down, to feel the pressure of those firm fingers close around him, to buck up into that sticky, hot palm but apparently, that’s not really on the cards. Steve isn’t even sure if Billy’s asking him if he wants to lick off the juice staining his skin or the come from his dick when he goes down on him. He prays to every deity out there that it’s both.

“Fuck yeah, I do.” He replies, licking over his mouth once more, and like a pavlovian response, his eyes roll to the back of his head, a moan pushing past his lips as he tastes the honeyed essence of the fruit all over again.

“Oh, _baby_.” Billy purrs and then he’s crashing their mouths together. It’s wet and hot and rough, their teeth clacking and tongues licking over each other, lips pressed so hard that Steve feels the bruises already beginning to form. He’s helpless to it, whines when Billy moans against him, eyes squeezed shut because he’s imagined this so many fucking times in his head and never thought that he’d have the chance to feel this.

Billy’s fingers cradle his jaw, firm but careful and Steve feels himself give under the pressure guiding him down until his back finds the picnic mat, the plastic immediately sticking to his skin. Billy’s over him in a second, staring down with pupils blown wide, chest heaving. He settles between Steve’s thighs and dives down, teeth sinking into the pulse on his neck. Steve shouts out, legs squeezing Billy’s hips, hips bucking up in search of the friction he so desperately needs. The skin throbs when Billy’s teeth pull away with a lewd, wet plop, dragging his tongue down until it grazes his clavicle, his five o’clock shadow leaving a tingling, delicious sensation that he knows he’s going to fantasize about until the end of time.

“Taste so good, princess.” Billy breathes into his skin.

“Yeah?” Steve gasps as Billy’s tongue trails into his chest hair, his face sinking into the thick, dark locks. Billy groans, inhales deeply like he’s trying to commit the smell and feel to memory, like it’s the best thing he’s ever had and it makes Steve fucking weak, a glob of precome leaking from the head of his cock and soaking into his shorts. He’s useless under the ministrations of Billy grooming him with his tongue like a fucking lion bathing their mate. It makes his legs shake, his back arch into it, his fingers tremble with need.

“Fuckin’ delicious, Stevie. God, I wanna eat you out, smell you down there. Bet you’d _stink_ from all that sweat. Bet your come tastes nasty, would be fuckin heavenly with watermelon, though.” The noise that crawls up Steve’s throat is truly embarrassing. He’s so fucking hard that his dick aches.

“ _Billy… Billy, fuck._ I need-” He mutters shakily, eyes peeling open just enough to see Billy’s golden curls like a halo above his head, his blue eyes almost green in the shadow of the tree they’re under, mouth so fucking red and ripe, skin flushed all the way down his waxed chest, highlighting the freckles over his cheeks and bridge of his nose. He’s beautiful.

“What do you need, Harrington?” Billy’s voice shakes.

“Need to taste you.” He replies immediately because he _has_ to. His mouth belongs on Billy and he needs to taste every inch of his skin.

Billy laughs a quiet huff, settling back and giving Steve enough room to sit up and push him down. Steve climbs over him like he was born for sitting in Billy’s lap, his agility from years of swimming and basketball working to his advantage. Billy moans shamelessly when his cock settles between Steve’s asscheeks, rolls up into the pressure, dragging deliciously along Steve’s taint and causing him to let out a full-body shudder. “Jesus, stop. You’re gonna make me come embarrassingly fast.” Steve whines, shutting his eyes and grinding down to meet Billy’s thrusts.

“Speak for yourself.” Billy forces out. “Hurry up so I can blow my fuckin’ load in that slutty mouth of yours.”

“Fuck.” Steve gasps, diving in to claim Billy’s mouth. Tastes the sweetness of watermelon and his own sweat. He drags his tongue over Billy’s parted lips, over his chin and down his neck, sucking and licking every inch of skin he can get his mouth on, unable to control the quiet grunts of pleasure and little whines that slip out. Billy skin tastes like fucking sunshine and sugar, salty with sweat and just a tad bitter from his cologne. His chest is all smooth planes of muscle and tacky with juice and now glistening with Steve’s saliva. The hard nub of Billy’s nipple over his tongue makes his dick kick violently and he cries out as Billy’s hips kick hard into his ass, sending him skating forward a little, knees burning against the drag of the woven plastic mat.

“Come on, Stevie. Need your mouth on me. Been dreaming of it for months now.” Billy babbles, lip pinched between his teeth. He lets the man’s hand settle in his hair, tug harshly until it burns so good, goosebumps breaking out along his nape and arms, nipples pebbling. Billy’s eyes widen a little at his reaction to pain, like a cat that’s got the cream and he grins, shoving Steve’s head down and pushing his face into his crotch. Steve gasps, tries to inhale the scent of Billy’s arousal through his shorts, mouths over the wet patch of pre and groans in delight when he tastes the saltiness. It’s not enough though and he finds his fingers scrambling at the waistline of the offending fabric, tugging it down until Billy’s goliath cock slips out, bouncing heavily between them, almost purple with how hard he is, thick and wet and ready to burst. Steve smells it then, the musky, sweaty odour, the salty tang, the undeniable scent of arousal. He feels Billy shifts above him, looks up in time to see his left hand smeared in wetness, juice dripping from his fingertips. He shifts Steve’s head aside, gets his hand on his cock and fists it, whining when the pressure is relieved as he coats his dick in watermelon juice.

“Oh fuck, _god, please_.” Steve begs. He fucking begs on his hands and knees, head bowed between Billy’s powerful, thick thighs, just inches away from his glorious dick.

Billy moves his hand away and that’s all the invitation he needs before he’s sinking down on it desperately, choking almost instantly as the dull, spongy head slams into the back of his throat. Steve’s tongue jumps in his mouth, dances along the hard ridge of the fat shaft stretching his jaw wide. He’s numb to the way Billy shakes and shudders above him, body tight with the need to fuck his face, orgasm already building in his gut. His focus is on the mixture of sweet and salty and bitter coating his mouth, of the way Billy’s velvety length drags along his cheeks and lips and tongue. The way his thick cockhead is squeezed at the back of his throat every time he gags on it. Never in Steve’s life did he think he would need this. It’s like he’s been living behind a veil his entire life and he’s finally found deliverance on his knees, worshipping Billy’s cock.

“‘m gonna come, sweetheart.” He vaguely hears the choked out words over the slurping and gagging and slick wetness. Billy’s cock swells ever so slightly and then the overwhelming bitter taste of spunk coats his mouth, hitting the back of his throat. Billy rocks up into him then, and he chokes but he doesn’t relent, pushes past the tears streaming down his face and snot leaking from his nose and saliva dripping from his chin, drinks it all down like a starved man, sucks Billy dry until he’s writhing from oversensitivity and has to push Steve away. His softening dick slips out with a wet sound and Steve licks his mouth, eyes closed as he savours the taste, swallowing past the pain in his throat and soreness of his jaw.

He’s brought back when hands hot like brands on his skin starts fumbling with his shorts. Steve’s eyes peel open and he lifts himself on shaky legs to let Billy pull off the entire thing. He knows he’s not going to last long at all, hell, he almost came just from sucking Billy off. His cock curves up, long and straight and leaning to the left just a little, impossibly hard and slick from the copious amounts of pre leaking from it. “Gonna come for me, pretty boy?” Billy asks, voice still shaky from his orgasm.

Steve nods, unable to say anything. The first touch of Billy’s hand around him hurts. He hisses, eyes snapping shut, teeth gritting. And then Billy pumps him twice, fingers rough and hard and entirely too careless but that’s exactly how Steve needs it because he’s coming so fucking hard that his vision whites out, his arms giving away beneath him as he hits the mat with a dull thud, entire body convulsing. Steve hears himself cry out, loud and _filthy_ and completely unlike any sound he’s ever made, chest squeezing so tight that he’s sure his heart stops beating.

It takes him a while to gather himself after that, boneless and fuzzy, head spinning and mouth so fucking dry. Billy’s smiling down at him almost reverently, skin still red and sweaty and Steve wants to taste it all over again but it seems the blond has other plans. He reaches over and grabs a tiny piece of watermelon from the container, the cool flesh causing Steve’s stomach muscles to jump and contract on contact as he swipes it over his abdomen, collecting the spunk that had spilt over him, dripping from his chest hairs. Billy plops it into his mouth, moans like a fucking pornstar and makes a show of chewing with his mouth open, flashes of white and red against the pink of his tongue causing Steve’s spent dick to twitch valiantly in an effort to come alive again.

“Open up.” Billy says, and Steve obeys with wide eyes and an equally wide mouth, tongue sticking out to receive the rush of liquid and clumps of warm watermelon flesh flooding his mouth. He moans as he collects it, swashes it around like fucking mouthwash, revelling in the taste of _saltybittersweet_ , and then swallows slowly. When he’s done, he opens his mouth to show Billy it’s empty, gets a loud groan for his efforts and a sweet kiss to his lips

“That was good.” Steve says, managing a weak smile, his voice terribly hoarse no doubt from the dick pounding his throat took.

Billy laughs, settling down at Steve’s side, their bodies pressed together. It’s no different from any other time they’ve hung out together at the quarry or the abandoned farms or the sprawling fields in Hawkins. Except now, Steve can curl into his side, naked as the day he was born, rest his head on his sticky chest and inhale the sweat and sweetness and sunshine soaked into his skin. “Yeah. Dunno why it took us so fuckin’ long.” Billy mutters, half exasperated, half fond. Despite the heat and disgusting state of their bodies, Billy doesn’t move or bitch when Steve swings a leg over his hip and squeezes an arm around his centre. He melts into the touch and Steve swears he feels him plant a kiss in his hair, soft and tender. It has his eyes fluttering shut, warmth bursting out of him, a small smile curving at his lips. “Next time we can try it with a different fruit.”

“Next time.” Steve parrots with a sleepy laugh, eyes slipping shut. It’s a good idea but he doesn’t think anything can ever compete with that watermelon sugar high.


End file.
